


A Husband's Duties

by holydance



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Crossdressing, Feminization, Fingering, M/M, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Thighs, absolute filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5732467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holydance/pseuds/holydance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie, the ever so dutiful husband, believes his wife deserves to get treated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Husband's Duties

**Author's Note:**

> God, okay it takes a lot to actually push me to write fic and outlast actually succeeded. Waylon is already so far gone so expect him to be head over heels for Eddie.
> 
> P.S dont let the beginning fluff mislead you, it gets filthy.

Sometimes it’s so hard for Waylon to simply fathom how much of a gracious and giving husband Eddie has always been. All the tender touches, the oh-so-smooth ‘ _darlings_ ’ he mutters to him throughout the days. It all accumulates so vividly for Waylon he can’t help but get goosebumps and heart pangs at the simple idea of Eddie’s stern devotion.  
  
It’s absurdly cold throughout the asylum nowadays. Blankets and Eddie’s ridiculous body warmth are the utmost necessary to Waylon as he lay in bed, keeping the shivers at bay. Under the sheets Waylon habitually fingers with the short hem of his night-gown that Eddie made for him.

Waylon was so lost before Eddie, so lost, confused, and without a guiding hand. He was absolutely sure of it. Now here he was, firmly wrapped in broad arms and enrobed in a soft nightgown of Eddie’s creation. A necessity such as clothing is even provided by his husband, which for all Waylon cares, leaves him properly owned and taken care of by Eddie. That primal thought strikes deep and a tender lust flows through Waylon, taking on the form of a raw blush and an arousal in his vulgar bits (god forbid Eddie becomes aware of this). In the midst of his musing, Waylon fails to notice Eddie's eyes on him.  
  
"What's my beautiful morning minx thinking about, hmm?" Eddie says with a graveled voice, still recuperating from sleep.  
  
Still painfully shy in such close proximity of Eddie, Waylon burrows deeper into his pillow, so ashamed of how bashful Eddie makes him.

"Mmmh? …n-nothing at all. Just trying to keep warm,” says Waylon in an adorably hushed voice

Of course he thinks about how much he hates his shyness, but deep down he loves what it produces. Eddie's words and presence moves and pulls at something in Waylon that makes him feel like a virginal schoolgirl with her first boyfriend.  
  
With no warning, Eddie quickly unwraps his arms from Waylon's waist and swiftly lifts Waylon's lower half as he glides down the bed and nestles himself right before Waylon’s crotch, all in one movement. Eddie devilishly eyes the thin panties keeping his wife pure and decent, a sign of what’s to come.

“E-Eddie what are you doing!?”

Waylon’s thighs jolt at the instant presence and instinctively attempt to close Eddie off before being halted by an iron grip.

“Relax my sweet, let me warm you up.” It suddenly strikes Eddie that he has never properly given the time to appreciate Waylon's thighs. Eddie takes his sweet time squeezing Waylon’s thighs, easing out sweet noises with each knead of the soft pink flesh that lay at hand. Waylon’s flesh heats up and bristles with goosebumps.

  
"I don't think I've ever told you how beautiful you are down here darling," Eddie breathily mutters along the smooth skin before peppering soft kisses all over. He mutters more words along the smooth skin; the vibrations trail right up Waylon’s spine and make him writhe in Eddie’s controlling grip.

“For God’s sake, it’s barely morning Eddie, p-please stop…”

He was already in heat with lust before, but now with Eddie’s lips he was in heaven. With the position Eddie was in, Waylon revels in every ounce of attention that is given.

Eddie’s mouth turns slow, "Hmm, I really do need to pay more attention to my wife before she gets snatched away from me, the poor thing.”

Then Eddie’s voice suddenly takes a dip and turns deep, the type of tone that has a physical effect on Waylon and makes his insides tighten and ache, “But you’ll be with me forever right? Promise me you’ll stay away from other men.” Eddie tightens his grip and digs his nails into Waylon’s poor flesh, “Say it. I want to hear it from that beautiful mouth of yours darling.”

For what seems like hours, all Waylon can do is pant like a dog in heat before he gathers his words, “Yes, god yes- _Mmm_ I-I promise Eddie.”

As if activated by a switch Eddie dips forward with a beastly fervor and nips at the apex where Waylon’s thighs meet with his crotch, alternating between incisive bites and tender licks. The arch of Waylon’s body rises with each bite, actually not even bites, just from the simple amount of time Eddie spends down there devouring his sweet skin. For a brief second Eddie unlatches his mouth from Waylon to view his work. The corners of his mouth curl up at the sight of pure debauchery that’s splayed out before him. Somehow from all the flailing and writhing, the spaghetti straps on Waylon’s night-gown have strayed from his shoulders and lay rucked down on his arms exposing his flushed chest.

“Darling, I do hate how shy you are, but if only you could see yourself now… like a whore in heat with her tits out…”

Waylon responds with an unintelligible whimper and a pitiful attempt to cover him-self back up before Waylon returns to feasting on him again.

On one particular bite, Eddie deftly navigates his tongue underneath the edge of the panties to nip at the tender flesh that plumps up where Waylon’s ass encroaches on to his taint. That’s the bite that makes Waylon release a raw and uncontrolled moan of lust and desire.

After coming down from that small high, Waylon glances down to see half of Eddie’s face buried deep and thoroughly invested between his thighs and comes into contact with that primal gaze. As their eyes meet, Eddie licks deeper, driving that wet tongue directly up into Waylon’s center and actually _slithers_ inside Waylon with his tongue, inciting this morning session of spousal worship into something beyond.

Under the haze, Waylon thinks how strange this whole situation is. This is the first time Eddie has willfully gone so close to his ‘vulgar bits’. All of Eddie’s training has resulted in Waylon’s abstaining of self-pleasure; in ignoring the pulse at the center of his legs, he allows Eddie to provide pleasure for him. As Eddie says “It’s a husband’s duties to provide pleasure for the wife.” And Eddie’s husbandly devotion is so strong that he’s willing to ignore Waylon’s vulgar throbbing cock that lay enclosed in the panties inches away from Eddie’s face. All this for Waylon’s gratification.

That’s the thought that simultaneously breaks him and yet grants him enough clarity to lift his head and say the words that Eddie has been waiting for.

Waylon’s tongue babbles a bit until the concept of ‘words’ comes back to him.

“It aches Eddie. Make me yours, _p-please_ …”

Eddie gasps and then giddily smiles at Waylon, teeth and all, like he just heard the words “ _I’m pregnant_.” Instead Eddie is granted an invitation into Waylon’s body. As if in need to further incite, Waylon’s legs rise from their arched position on the bed in a cordial offering. Wasting no time, Eddie tears the middle of the panties with ease.

“Oh darling, it appears you’re blushing down here too, absolutely beautiful.” His voice silently beams with an almost childlike wonder which rings as absolute filth to Waylon. This is the first time somebody has ever described him…down there.

What was once Waylon’s most private and intimate spot becomes Eddie’s feasting ground, as he soon has Waylon _fucked_ and _speared_ onto his hot tongue, open-mouthed like a beast with an endless appetite. Gone are the gentle licks, instead Eddie is driving his tongue deeper into Waylon who matches the tempo with his body as Eddie undulates his tongue with the utmost precision, like he’s making out with his hole. A high-pitched yelp rises out of Waylon’s throat when he feels Eddie’s teeth indenting on his tender rim in his quest to go deeper.

In any other situation, Waylon would have backed off in cowardice, but this time the sharp pain edges into a scarlet red sensation that feels absolutely cavernous in his gut. Each brief scrape of teeth racks Waylon with deep shudders that only make him clench around Eddie’s tongue, heightening that _living_ texture of that hot, drenched tongue that’s nearly root deep in his cunt and lapping at his walls.

God knows how much time passes in bed with Eddie tongue deep in Waylon, but Eddie manages to keep up his constant servicing of Waylon’s hole, thoroughly salved in saliva and virginal red from penetration. As for Waylon himself, he is absolutely _gone_ in this newfound experience.  Of course he’s been fucked painfully deep onto Eddie’s cock countless times before this, but he just can’t get over how indescribably _filthy_ and how ridiculously _intimate_ Eddie’s tongue manages to be all at once. In their make out sessions, Eddie’s tongue absolutely dominates Waylon’s mouth, claiming it as all Waylon can do is moan around it, as it takes. And now, new territory is claimed by Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie rises slowly, kneeling on the bed and above his abandoned space between Waylon’s thighs.

“Delicious. Absolutely delicious,” He whispers, wiping the excess of saliva veiled all over his mouth and licks his lips, savoring his wife’s taste. “But we need a proper finish to this, don’t we darling?”

Waylon feels two of Eddie’s fingers massaging his entrance, circling his moist rim in soothing circles. He braces for the usual discomfort of penetration but before he knows it, Eddie is already knuckle-deep in him. With searing shame, Waylon realized that he’s been loosened up from Eddie’s dexterous tongue. How easy he was, he thought.

“Oh, what is it my sweet? That shouldn’t have been painful considering how loose and wet I’ve made you,” Eddie huskily says, fingers still prodding at the flesh within Waylon.

Waylon contemplated answering, but instead was forced into a breathless shudder as Eddie bumped into his prostate.

“Ah there it is, I wager you would rather have my tongue in you again, but it would be wrong of me to spoil you too much darling, I’ve read about what happens to spoiled wives.” Eddie says, as calmly as one would in a breakfast table conversation before arching his fingers in a hooked shape, allowing a maximum angle to play with Waylon’s body. “Spoiled wives soon forget to appreciate the small treats their husbands give them,” he hisses.

Eddie leans in closer, nearly smothering Waylon’s small body and brings them face-to-face leaning against Waylon’s sweat gleamed forehead. From the neck up, all of this appears as purely domestic as possible, husband and wife sweetly peering into each other, eye to eye. That is until Eddie resumes his relentless assault, fucking Waylon open on his fingers as if he intends to split him open.

“ _Beautiful,_ you’re so beautiful did you know that?” Eddie genuinely asks, knowing well that with his ministrations, all that Waylon is currently capable of is forming his mouth into a pink O in his current state.

But Eddie adapts, and instead of sitting around and waiting for any form of an answer, he nearly suffocates Waylon of any breath in his lungs as lunges in for a breathtaking kiss, all consuming, and all-claiming. With each rapid press against his inner walls, Eddie watches with an almost academically inquisitive eye as Waylon comes undone for what seems to be the hundredth time, all of it occurring inches away from his face.

Time appears to come for a standstill for the two and all senses are deprived and debased down to the filthy rhythmic push-and-pull of Eddie’s hooked fingers that are firmly lodged in Waylon. With each pull, Waylon’s body desperately clings and clenches around Eddie’s fingers, fearful of losing connection. And with each push, a flurried bloom of pleasure spreads throughout Waylon. Each action incites each other, and a seemingly endless cycle is created.

Eventually the pressure in Waylon’s stomach finally gives away and with a high-pitched yelp, he’s spurting his load all over the thin fabric of his nightgown. Eddie glances down at the mess in front of him in annoyance and for the first time this morning, gets himself up and away from bed. With his back faced towards Waylon, he takes some time stretching and twisting out any soreness in his solid forearms which gives him back an air of tolerance.

Eddie turns his neck, eyeing the tangle of limbs that is Waylon from his peripheral.

“My beloved wife- I do hope you enjoyed this.”


End file.
